Rebirth of a Mercenary: The Ace Mercenary Forced to Be the Beloved of the Group

The training program changed on Monday of the second week.

"A gun is your closest companion on the battlefield. If it goes silent, you're dead."

Zhao Lei picked up the Type 95 rifle on the table and placed his fingers on the receiver cover.

"Disassembling and reassembling a gun, three minutes. Three minutes sounds like a long time, doesn't it?" His gaze swept across the ranks, lingering on Zhao Xiaohu's face for a moment. "On the battlefield, three minutes is enough for you to die sixty times over."

Zhao Xiaohu's Adam's apple bobbed.

Zhao Lei stopped wasting words.

He held the gun level with his chest, slowing his movements and breaking it down step by step. He gripped the receiver cover latch with his fingers, pushed forward, and the receiver cover sprang open. He pulled out the recoil spring, removed the bolt carrier, pulled out the bolt, and removed the piston cylinder.

"Goal: Disassemble and reassemble within three minutes. Begin practice."

The new recruits lowered their heads and began disassembling their guns.

Bai Ye picked up the gun and placed his finger on the receiver cover.

He had used the Type 95 rifle in his previous life. He could disassemble its internal structure with his eyes closed. But the moment his fingers touched the receiver cover latch, he paused—the latch's engagement angle was slightly different from what he remembered from his previous life. Perhaps the manufacturing process was different in this world, or perhaps his hands weren't yet familiar enough with this gun.

He pressed the latch and pushed open the receiver cover.

The first step went smoothly. Then he got stuck when he tried to pull out the retaining spring. The slot on the spring tail was less than half a millimeter off from his prediction, and that half millimeter caused his finger to push in vain. He adjusted the angle and tried again; the spring came out, but the rhythm was broken.

It took him almost two minutes to disassemble and reassemble it the first time.

Not bad. Compared to the flustered recruits around him, two minutes was quite impressive. But he frowned. Too slow. In his past life, he could disassemble and assemble a Type 95 rifle in under thirty seconds.

He took a deep breath, put the gun back on the table, closed his eyes, and mentally reviewed all the steps he had just taken.

Open your eyes. The second time.

My fingers are moving faster.

The receiver cover pops open, the recoil spring is pulled out, the bolt carrier and bolt separate in sequence, and the piston cylinder is removed—the parts are laid out on the table in precise order, with no unnecessary pauses in the transitions between actions. As the last part is disassembled, fingers simultaneously begin to reassemble it. The bolt returns to its position, the bolt carrier is pushed in, the recoil spring is pressed in, the receiver cover closes, and the latch locks in place.

Just then, a voice came from the side.

"Shall we have a comparison?"

Xuan Xiao stood next to him without him noticing.

Bai Ye glanced at him.

"Compare what?"

"Disassemble and reassemble the gun. The loser—" Xuan Xiao thought for a moment, "the loser has to wash the other person's socks for a week."

"OK."

The two men picked up guns at the same time.

"start."

Both hands moved simultaneously. Xuanxiao disassembled the gun very quickly, the receiver cover, recoil spring, bolt carrier—every step was clean and efficient, with a strong sense of rhythm.

Bai Ye understood at a glance; this guy had studied it.

Bai Ye didn't pause. His fingers moved between the parts, the end of one step being the beginning of the next, the transitions compressed to the extreme. The instant the receiver cover popped open, his fingers were already moving towards the recoil spring, and as the recoil spring was pulled out, his other hand was already waiting for the bolt carrier.

The parts for both people are laid out on the table at the same time.

Then Bai Ye started to put on an act.

While Xuanxiao was still disassembling the last part, Baiye's hand was already pushing it back. The bolt returned to its position, the bolt carrier was pushed in, and the recoil spring was pressed in—his fingers were a beat faster when installing the recoil spring, because he had discovered during his second practice that the recoil spring slot angle in this world was off, and it needed to be deflected by half a millimeter when pressing it in. He had already calibrated it.

The casing cover is closed. The latches lock in place.

Bai Ye's stopwatch showed: forty-eight seconds.

Xuanxiao's stopwatch showed: fifty-one seconds.

A difference of three seconds.

Xuan Xiao glanced down at his stopwatch, then at Bai Ye's. Three seconds. Not much, really—in the game of disassembling and reassembling guns, it was just a breath's difference. But not little either—he'd been handling guns since he was eight, practicing for ten years, and yet someone who supposedly "had never practiced before" had surpassed him by three seconds. Those three seconds were the ones he couldn't catch up to no matter how hard he tried.

Zhao Xiaohu jumped out from behind the table, his round face trembling slightly with excitement: "Brother Xiao! You lost! A week's worth of socks!" Qian Duoduo clapped wildly beside him, his hands making a loud clapping sound.

Xuan Xiao put away the stopwatch, turned to look at Zhao Xiaohu and Qian Duoduo who were still laughing wildly, and smiled so brightly that it sent chills down one's spine.

"Are you tired of living?"

Zhao Xiaohu's laughter abruptly stopped, and he abruptly lowered his head to start disassembling the gun on his table again. His movements were so fast that he almost knocked the recoil spring off again. Qian Duoduo also lowered his head to assemble the parts, afraid that if he was even a second late, he would be killed by Xuan Xiao's glare.

Xuanxiao turned back and looked at Baiye.

"Have you practiced this before?"

Bai Ye thought about her experiences in this life and answered truthfully, "No."

Xuanxiao remained silent for a few seconds.

Just as he was about to say something more, another voice interrupted.

"Shall we have a comparison?"

Zhao Lei walked to Bai Ye's table without anyone noticing.

Bai Ye looked up at Zhao Lei: "Is there a reward for winning?"

Zhao Lei raised an eyebrow, clearly not expecting the recruit to negotiate with him.

What do you want?

"A packet of sugar."

Zhao Lei paused for half a second, then laughed.

"OK."

Two guns lay flat on the table. The two men stood facing each other, separated by two long tables. Zhao Xiaohu volunteered to be the starter, raising his hand, his voice trembling: "Ready—Go!"

Both of their hands pressed onto the gun at the same time.

Zhao Lei was indeed fast. But Bai Ye was even faster.

The parts were laid out on the table. As Bai Ye's fingers began to reassemble them, Zhao Lei had just removed the last part.

Assembling is harder to differentiate than disassembling. Zhao Lei assembles the gun extremely quickly, with the order and force of putting the parts back in place precise to the millimeter level. But Bai Ye is half a beat faster.

The casing cover is closed. The latches lock in place.

The stopwatch on the white night clock stopped at thirty-nine seconds.

Zhao Lei's stopwatch stopped at forty-two seconds.

The entire training ground fell silent.

A new recruit beat his platoon leader by three seconds. If this number got out to other platoons, probably no one would believe it.

Zhao Lei looked down at his stopwatch and remained silent for a moment. His face was expressionless, but his fingers tightened around the stopwatch. A new recruit had disassembled the gun three seconds faster than him. If this got out—no, it already had—everyone on the training ground had seen it.

Bai Ye reset the stopwatch to zero and placed it on the table. He looked at Zhao Lei and spoke in his usual calm voice: "Don't forget the candy."

Zhao Lei put the stopwatch back in his pocket and glanced at Bai Ye.

Then he smiled helplessly and reached out to ruffle Bai Ye's hair. The movement was so quick that Bai Ye didn't even have time to frown before it was over.

"Understood, my little darling."